


Where we are is not so far from {where we're gonna be}

by call_for_help



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hot chocolate is a love language, Humor, Pining, UST, Walt Longmire Roast Club, thinly veiled metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27571645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_for_help/pseuds/call_for_help
Summary: After staying a bit too late at the legal aid, Cady winds up on Jacob’s doorstep during a blizzard.
Relationships: Cady Longmire/Jacob Nighthorse
Comments: 17
Kudos: 23





	Where we are is not so far from {where we're gonna be}

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unkemptseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkemptseeker/gifts).



> In response to the prompt “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Hope it brings the feels :)

She started to lose hope after the seventh ring. “C’mon.” A finger tapped impatiently on the arm rest as she sat through the second set of empty tones.

She slammed her palm on the steering wheel in frustration. _Doesn’t anybody answer their phone anymore?_ It was a probably a hopeless case even if she could reach them. There was no way Walt or Henry would be able to get to her without a snowplow at this point. Which… Walt might actually manage to scare up a driver even at this hour if he knew what the alternative was. She looked up from her abandoned call and could barely make out the light by Jacob’s front door through the nearly blanketed windshield.

 _No use waiting outside in the snow_ , she thought as she made what would hopefully be the last call of the night.

“Cady? Is something wrong?”

“No—Not really, except I got caught up in paperwork at the office and by the time I made it back out to 25 it was really coming down. I didn’t think I could make it back to town so… I’m in your driveway.”

She heard a creak and the rustling of fabric from the other end. And then, nothing.

A minute later a much larger area of light broke through the translucent curtain of snow before it was partially obscured by shadow. The shadow appeared to be waving.

“Were you planning on coming inside? You know it’s freezing out here.”

“Yeah. Just ah—I’m gonna hang up now.” Why did she think it was a good idea to stay in the car again? Now it was Jacob waiting out in the cold. She threw her phone in her bag even though there was nothing else in it that would do her any good. As strange as she felt coming to his house in the middle of the night, somehow showing up completely empty-handed would feel… more intentional.

She crunched through the piling snow, large flakes already accumulating on her navy wool jacket. A slit of light remained in the doorway, guiding her through the remaining ten feet. When she pushed open the door and stepped inside, Jacob was nowhere to be seen.

She let a deep breath of warm air fill her lungs, relieved to be in a building with a fully functional climate control system. The heater in the legal aide, old as it was, couldn’t keep up with all the poorly insulated windows. Keeping a fire going helped but could only do so much to combat the Wyoming winter. Her office, being full of windows and far from the fire, steadily sapped her warmth throughout the day until the chill had settled not just in her fingers and nose, but in her toes wrapped in wool socks and insulated boots. Leaving the office, all she could think about was getting home to sink into the combined restorative powers of a hot bath and a large cup of tea. _So much for that plan._

She hung up her coat, ephemeral snowflakes already transitioning back to their more common form. She felt there was a metaphor there but couldn’t decide if it was about the fleetingness of beauty or the inevitable thawing of an icy exterior to reveal what lay beneath.

Cady followed a trail of lights down a hallway that opened up to an impressive kitchen. She set her bag in a chair and leaned against the breakfast bar. Jacob had his back to her, standing in front of something on the stove, wooden spoon in hand.

“Ahem.” He turned to face her but kept half of his attention on the saucepan. “Thanks for letting me in.”

He gave her a quick once over before replying with a slight smirk, “Well, you don’t look dressed to survive outside tonight.”

“I did have a coat.” She took his teasing in stride but couldn’t resist a little teasing of her own. “And I don’t think you have any room to criticize wardrobe choices right now.” She was referring to his silk pajamas, navy, just like the coat she’d abandoned, with gold stitching over the left chest pocket. “What’s the ‘A’ stand for?”

He gave her a withering look. “It stands for ‘Are you going to want some hot chocolate?’”

“That’d be great.” The pajamas and their brief phone call suddenly pieced together into a realization. “Did I wake you up?”

He’d turned his attention back to the pot and didn’t bother turning around as he replied, “Not exactly. I haven’t been getting much sleep anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” She bit her lip, hesitating. They didn’t exactly _talk_ about personal things, not really. But, fuck it, she was in his house, watching him make cocoa in his pajamas. Maybe it was time they moved past tension-ridden coworkers to tension-ridden friends. Or, something. “Is it anything you’d… want to talk about?”

“In a minute. You have to keep an eye on milk or it’s liable to—” He yanked the pan from the flame, stirring simultaneously to keep the rising bubbles at bay. “Boil over.”

He pulled out two beautiful glazed mugs, obviously handmade, no doubt by a local Cheyenne artist. Next came a glass container full of light brown powder. “You mix that yourself?”

He nodded, removing a set of measuring spoons from a drawer. “I find the commercial stuff far too sweet. Plus I like to add a touch of cayenne pepper.”

A smile crept its way onto her face. “So you literally put the _hot_ in hot chocolate?”

He looked over at her, the weariness on his face betrayed by the glint in his eyes. “I suppose you could say that.”

She watched as he carefully measured out the powder and added just a splash of steaming milk to each mug. Next came a smaller spoon, thoroughly mixing the contents before the remaining milk was split between them.

He placed the saucepan in the sink and passed her one of the mugs. “Let’s go sit.”

She followed him to the living room where there was ample seating for someone who lived alone. He led them to a couch along one wall with conveniently placed tables to set their drinks. She sat what she felt was an appropriate distance away from him, but that somehow held its own kind of discomfort.

He took a sip followed by a deep breath and his shoulders seemed to relax as he turned in his seat and pulled up a leg to rest ankle on knee.

“I’ve been having some… disagreements with the tribal council.”

“What about?”

He looked down at the mug in his hands for a minute before setting it back on a table and returning her gaze. “Are you aware that I’m not actually the owner of the casino?”

“No.” He’d certainly always given that impression. Not to mention, all her parents’ campaigning had been directed solely at him. She briefly wondered where this was going but, knowing Jacob, the topic at hand would come back around eventually.

“By law, only the tribe itself has the authority to operate a gaming enterprise. When I first approached the tribal council with a plan to make it happen, we came to an agreement. I would manage the investment gathering, construction, and, eventually, the actual business. In exchange for providing these services at a great discount, I would have greater control over the distribution of the profits.”

As he was talking he was, surely absentmindedly, tracing lazy circles on his exposed ankle and she had to admit, it had her mind wandering to a place that made concentrating on his business arrangements rather difficult. She tried to focus on his face as he continued.

“Malcom Eaglestar insisted on the direct-to-member checks but other than that”—he shrugged—“I can _propose_ any project I want.”

Having only been half-paying attention to the first part she had to clarify something. “So, wait. You just run the casino for basically nothing? Where does all this”—she waved a hand at his magnificent house—“come from?”

He smiled more with his eyes than his mouth. “I have a few other business interests that pay the bills. It shouldn’t surprise you Cady, but this isn’t my first rodeo, as it were. There’s a reason I was able to convince them to agree to my terms.” His mouth opened slightly and closed before he made up his mind to proceed. “And for your information, not a dime of casino money went into paying for those Prada suits you had so much to say about.”

A heat rose in her cheeks at being called out retroactively for her, at the time, offhandremarks. She vaguely wondered if he kept the rest of their interactions catalogued somewhere.

“I didn’t mean…” She trailed off when the smile came back. It reached his mouth this time and had a wonderful warmth to it, not unlike the mug she had been neglecting, fully engaged in the conversation. He dropped it as soon as she was reassured he meant no harm. Was it habit or a defense mechanism she mused, saving it for special occasions?

Out of nowhere an image surfaced in her mind, of her standing next to Jacob, his arm around her waist. Her dad stood in front of them. Jacob greeted him with that warm, genuine smile. _“Walter.”_

She reached for her mug in an attempt to banish the wildly distracting image. Finally taking her first sip, she chastised herself for leaving it untouched so long. The cocoa had a depth like none she’d had before, a bitter first note quickly replaced with a smooth, fiery richness and just enough sweetness to enhance its other qualities.

“Holy sh—Jacob where did you get this recipe?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was an old Cheyenne favorite?”

“When you put it like that, no.”

“I got it from the internet, Cady. I may be of your father’s generation but I’ve long since moved past the analog age.”

She burst out laughing despite herself and brought the trace of a smile back to Jacob’s face. “You know, he told me the other week he was thinking of getting a cell phone.”

“Will wonders never cease?” he asked with artificial seriousness.

“The funny thing is, if he _had_ a cell phone I might’ve been able to reach him tonight. Not that I’d want to hear his whining after the snow plow driver told him his daughter sleeping in his sworn enemy’s house wasn’t exactly an emergency.” She matched his affected tone. “I _can_ stay here, right?”

“Of course,” he replied. “You can take my bed. The guest room’s set up as a gym.”

“Oh, Jacob I co—”

“I insist. I’ll sleep on the couch. A change of scenery might do me good.”

“Oh, right.” She was reminded of the first thread of their conversation. “What were you arguing about with the tribal council?”

He leaned the side of his head to rest against the back of the couch. “You know, I think I’d rather talk about something else.”

She swallowed. “And what might that be?”

“How someone who grew up in Wyoming manages to get caught in a blizzard they’ve been predicting all week.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. It certainly wasn’t _intentional_ but she couldn’t say she regretted ending up here, whatever the cause. Her widened eyes no doubt revealed her surprise but Jacob’s gaze was steady. “Is that an accusation?” The question came out more flirtatious than she’d intended, but Jacob didn’t flinch.

“An observation,” he replied, a softness in his voice. “You’ve been working too hard. If the hours are getting to be that long, we should look into hiring you some help.”

How the conversation had wound its way from offering to let Jacob vent all the way to him worrying about her overworking habits she genuinely could not say, despite being present the entire time.

“Well, I can’t say I couldn’t use it.”

“It’s settled then.”

They fell into an amiable silence during which Cady was able to thoroughly enjoy her now cooling hot chocolate. She reflected that between it and the conversation, she felt more than sufficiently restored, despite missing out on her bath. By the time she’d emptied her mug, the various tensions that had nagged her since her impromptu arrival at her boss’ home had all but dissipated and the weight of the day began to drag on her eyelids.

“Cady.” She jerked awake at the sound of his voice. “At least one of us should get a good night’s sleep.” He stood and picked up her mug, indicating with his head that she should follow. At the entrance to the kitchen he paused and pointed down the hall. “Second door on the right. Make yourself comfortable.” He started to turn to go into the kitchen but stilled at the touch of her hand on his arm.

She met his eyes, wanting to say something more but only managing a short, “Thank you.”

He held her gaze for a moment, nodded, to her words or the ones left unspoken she had no way of knowing, and continued to the kitchen.

Jacob’s bedroom was much like the rest of the house, large and sparsely, but sufficiently, furnished. The sheets and charcoal comforter were pulled back invitingly just as Jacob had left them. She felt slightly awkward taking off her jeans but was quickly becoming too tired to care. Slipping between the sheets, she noticed that the pillow smelled faintly of Jacob and found it vaguely soothing. It wasn’t long before she was drifting off.

* * *

A series of images plague her sleeping mind, mocking her.

She holds Jacob’s hand as they stroll down a lonely street, stepping in time with the melody she attempts to coax him to join her in. All she can see is his laughing face above a grey scarf, snow covered trees coloring the edges of her vision.

Walking into the grocery store, alone this time. She reaches into her jacket pocket for the list and pulls out a second piece of paper and a smooth white stone. Paper crinkles as it unfolds to reveal a familiar scrawl.

_Do you remember_

_When I woke you up that night_

_To say I love you?_

Three precise lines pull her back in time. A moment passed but still alive. A feeling that ticks on. She takes out her phone.

Now she stands in her kitchen with a rapidly working spatula keeping a stir fry from burning in a wok. Arms slide around her waist from behind and soft lips meet her neck before trailing up to a spot just below her ear, left accessible by a messy bun. The wok is swiftly abandoned to a cold burner before she turns in his arms. One hand finds the back of his hair as she kisses along his jaw, whispers of love and lust escaping her lips in the process. As she reaches the corner of his mouth, she breathes his name, the only one she ever calls him, but they both know it sounds different coming from her. He moves in to close the gap and—

She awoke with a start, heart racing. The images dissolved immediately but the shock remained. Taking a few steading breaths, she glanced at the clock. Just an hour had passed. _Fuck_.

As the shock began to fade, some of the images resurfaced in her now fully awake mind. They combined with the feeling of fresh sheets on bare skin and the smell she would now describe as a heady mixture of pine and fresh rain to fill her with a longing she was no stranger to, despite the time she’d spent trying to deny it.

What a ridiculous set-up this was. Was there _really_ a good reason that Jacob should not be in here with her, his skin just as bare, his pulse just as quick? She soon settled on _no, no there wasn’t_ , and let the thought of Jacob still lying awake on the couch drag her from a coziness she dared to think she could get used to. A few steps toward the door but, no, jeans were probably the right move, if only momentarily.

There wasn’t a full moon outside, but the fresh snow amplified all available light in the dwindling storm allowing her to move freely over the hardwood floor, forbidden question on her lips as she tiptoed toward the living room.

The sound of steady breathing reached her before her eyes found Jacob’s sleeping form, lying on his back, one arm resting on his chest, the other by his side.

She hovered at the edge of the room, mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of his chest, like the perpetual beauty of moonlit waves on smooth sands. Was it enough to know that her mere presence had quieted his chosen demons, if only for a night?

He shifted slightly, interrupting the rhythm of his breathing that was returning her to a state of calm after her unexpected, but not unwelcome, visions. She caught a faint mumble that could have been anything really, but she had her suspicions.

For tonight, she decided, yes, it was enough.


End file.
